


Rapier

by notjustmom



Series: Words, Words, Words [131]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bit cracky, Gen, Johnlock Fluff, M/M, out of control lithp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 09:22:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5962189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>rapier: noun: rā-pē-ər: a thin, light, sharp-pointed sword used for thrusting; quick and incisive</p>
<p>early 16th century: from French rapière, from râpe ‘rasp, grater’ (because the perforated hilt resembles a rasp or grater).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rapier

"Clang...clink...nooooo...not fair Myc! Surrender! Never! Clink!..."

John almost bounded up the steps when Mrs. Hudson popped out of her flat. "Oh, John...home early today, why don't come in for a cuppa, fresh biscuits just out of the oven. They will be done in a few minutes, best not to interrupt."

John shook his head, and followed her into her cosy flat. 

"What the hell are they doing up there?"

"Sonetimes when Mycroft is stuck on a problem, the only way to work it out is by fencing, and Sherlock is one of the few that can beat him once in a while...no goldfish he can spar with."

"What do they use?"

"Rapier today, sometimes sabres, foils...Mycroft has a massive collection, and once in a while, he will just pop over with a couple of weapons..."

"Damnit, Myc! Have you been practicing? Whaaaa-seriou-Greg?! Since when? You could warn a person."

"Sounds like Mycroft found himself a goldfish. Better go up and see if I need to bandage up any bruised egos. Ta for the cuppa, Mrs. H."

He opened the door to find Mycroft on his way out the door looking no less polished as usual. 

"Finally told him, yeah? I wouldn't have done it while he was holding a weapon, but that's just me..."

"Hard to get an audience with my brother these days, figured this was the least traumatic way for us both. Good day, John, he is unscathed, just a bit, uhm..."

"Stunned?"

"Pretthisely."

John tried to remove the amusement from his face as he reached the door to their flat.

"Sherlock? Love? Are you alright?"

The flat was in disarray, furniture pushed around in order to make enough space for the two men to face off against each other. Sherlock was in the shower, apparently nursing his wounded pride.

John undressed and climbed in with him. "Hey, love."

"Oh, John...didn't know you were home."

"Popped in for tea with Mrs. H, almost thought you were fighting it out with an unruly client who wasn't going to pay for services rendered."

"Myc just told me he and Gavin are engaged."

"Greg?"

"Uhmmm."

"Wow. When did that happen?"

"Last night...Myc actually cooked him dinner and popped the question after red velvet cake..."

"How domestic of him..."

"That's what I thought."

"Listen...you wouldn't uhm...want...to, ya know..."

"No..I don-wait. John. Are you theriothly propothhing to me in the th-damn etthses. In the shower?"

"Why not?"

"You really would want to be married to me?

"Something wrong with you I don't know about?"

"Uhm, you mean with fancy dress and cake and doves and..."

"If you want all that, of course I'd do that for you."

"You really, truly, love me, don't you?"

"uhhummmm..."

"Ohhhhhhhh.....yettttttttthhhhh...:"

"Yes?"

"Yeth, John. Yeth."


End file.
